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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jun, 2020
Submitted to Contest #44
Something about the gentle fall of rain always made Coen feel so gloomy. Perhaps it was the cold feel of it against his skin, or the smell that lingered in the airβ¦ Or perhaps it was simply because it reminded him of his plight. Pulling out a locket with a photo of an infant, he sighed. How old was she now? Five? Six? How long had he even been gone? βCoen!β A familiar voice called, pulling his gaze back to the stone pathway just outside of his home. It was Sheila- she was supposed to be keeping watch in the East, if he remembered correctly. ...
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